


Like An Ocean

by masochistedgelord



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Clans, Colours, Drabble, Light Angst, M/M, Poetic, Reminiscing, Yata Musing, sarumi fest 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 06:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11480838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masochistedgelord/pseuds/masochistedgelord
Summary: You're an ocean and baby, I'm drowning.





	Like An Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> I had sudden inspiration for this short drabble lol  
> Enjoy!

It was raining.

Yata hated the rain. He looked out of the small window dourly, watching the drops hit the glass and roll away. It was the middle of the afternoon but it seemed later than it actually was, the sky a mass of dark grey bulbous clouds, with the sun nowhere to be seen. 

Yata hated days like this, the way the rain clouds would come swooping down, blocking out the brightness and making everything monochrome as it stole colour from all things around him, seemingly sapping life out of them in the process. The sparkling city glass was made to look dull and uninteresting. The bustling streets replaced by black umbrellas, the people hiding their form underneath heavy raincoats. 

Yata hated staying in as much as he hated going out on days like this. He needed to be outside, to feel wind through his hair, and the sun against his skin. He hated that he couldn't use his skateboard freely, that the rain made the sidewalks and railings slippy and unuseable. That the downpour would make his clothes soggy, sticking to him and sending chills through his body. That he was forced to stay in one place and observe the melancholy instead, in favour of not getting soaked.

Yata watched still, listening to the hissing sound of the torrents as they grew faster. He could hardly see the streets and the cars now. The outside world simply becoming a tangled mess of abstraction. Orange car lights and dark greys moving along with vague black shapes.

He sighed. He hated that even the bright red flames he loved, that always brought him comfort could not comfort him on days like this. That he even felt mildly annoyed by them. He brought his hand up to press against the cold window and stared as he channeled his power into it. 

Deep red danced along his fingers too bright to mix into the dull background. Yata felt a shifting in his soul as he watched the colours trying to blend in, meld together but failing. The red was too different, too unique to become one with it. His red was never out of place. To him it was everything, it always fit. It was always reliable. Yet here in this setting it was out of place and Yata felt uneasy. He moved his hand away from the window and stared at it.

_This is..how Saruhiko felt in Homra..?_

Another thing Yata hated was how his thoughts wandered, to the one with a blue that was once like his red. To when he had Saruhiko by his side, his brain seemingly flipping a switch to make him feel even worse while he was at it.

The rain never made him feel so bad back then yet now it always made him feel alone. As if he was nothing but a mere shape that didn't fit in the puzzle, yet mixing in and being swept away with it at the same time. 

Guilt gnawed at his gut and crawled up his spine as he sat, allowing the spiralling wave of thoughts now drenched in blue to wash over him. 

_Red really doesn't fit with Saruhiko._

Yata thought now and wondered how he never realised it before. Everything about Saruhiko was blue. From his always cool, calm demeanour to his bright eyes that always made Yata's breath catch in his throat. Saruhiko was like water...like the ocean forever moving from a wild raging storm to a surreal stillness and Yata drowned in him completely, endlessly.

Yata bit his lip. If he had a choice he knows, he would try and do things differently so Saruhiko would still be by his side now. Yet... Yata could admit to himself in silence, alone, on days like this...

_In the end blue really does suit that guy better._

He smiled to himself wistfully.

_What would Saruhiko do if he heard me say that... He would probably just laugh at me._

Yata's smile faded and he let the flames on his hand fizzle out.

As he stared at his hand Yata faintly wondered how blue would look, wrapped around his fingers. 

_

Saruhiko drew the sheets closer to his thin body tightly as a cold chill swept through with the slight pattering of raindrops echoing around the bare room. Half asleep he found himself suddenly yearning for the warmth of the red that always enveloped Yata. Saruhiko hated that red but no other red felt like Yata's did. He craved it and he hated that weakness, that part of himself that did. 

In the quiet darkness hidden beneath walls of protection, was one thought. 

Both wondered why they could never share a colour, why they couldn’t join the other in a brilliant show of vibrant purple.

 


End file.
